


Reaching Out

by orphan_account



Series: Homecoming [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Homecoming AU, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, What if Two-shot, undercover!whore!Jon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-17 09:48:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9317495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “I’ve always known that if I needed help, I could go to you or your family. Even after breaking your heart and being gone so long, I knew that if I really needed help, all I had to do was find one of you Starks.” (Excerpt from Homecoming)What if Jon had been originally assigned to Slynt's unit? What if he found himself in a situation where he really needed help?(A what-if short story set in my Homecoming universe)





	1. Chapter 1

Jon tried not to let his tension show as he leaned casually against the brick wall. He was nervous. He was sure the operation was going to go south sooner rather than later. Captain Slynt had brushed his concerns aside, not trusting the rookie detective to make that kind of call, but Jon was sure he was right.

He had seen it in Rolf’s eyes. The look the pimp had given him when he told him where to meet him had sent shivers down Jon’s spine. Slynt had waved off his fears though.

“You’re just not used to being looked at like a whore, Snow,” he had said dismissively. “He’s bringing you into the ring. This is a good thing. It means we’re getting close.”

That was what worried him the most, though he hadn’t told his captain that. Jon shifted uneasily as he checked the time. He should have questioned the operation before he agreed to it. He hadn’t realized until he needed them that there weren’t a lot of failsafes built into it. If things went south, he had no safe house to go to and the only backup he had on stand-by was Luke Rast, the dubious senior detective Slynt had assigned as his partner.

Jon was far from sure that he could actually count on Rast if he needed help. They hadn’t known each other for long, but he had the distinct feeling that the older detective did not like him.

This was his first assignment as a detective, though, and Captain Slynt hadn’t seemed very open to being questioned to by a rookie.

He straightened as a large black SUV came around the corner before coming to a stop in front of him. The passenger window rolled down. “Get in,” Rolf ordered, a sharp grin on his fleshy face. Heart pounding, he glanced down the street to where Rast was sitting in an unmarked car. “ _Now_!”

Jon hurried to comply, not wanting to seem suspicious. He kept his mouth shutting, knowing that questioning the pimp would only anger him. Rolf didn’t like his whores to speak unless spoken to, _especially_ if they were as far down on the totem pole as Jon was. He might have been a bit more forgiving if Jon pulled in more money for him, but Jon relied on other undercover cops to pose as his johns and there were only so many resources the department had.

He glanced at the mirrors, but he couldn’t see if Rast was following them or not. He tried to tell himself that was a good thing, that it meant that Rast’s tail wouldn’t be seen by Rolf, but being able to see the other cop would have set his mind at ease a bit.

Jon wasn’t surprised when he was taken to an abandoned warehouse. It was such a cliche location, but he couldn’t spare the brainpower to be amused. Not when he was fighting off panic.

He had to get away _now_. This ring didn’t bring their prostitutes to warehouses. Their MO was to provide hookers to middle-class clients looking for some extra excitement in their lives. Nothing they knew about them pointed to any of their business being done in places like this.

Which meant he had been made.

He threw the door open and jumped out of the SUV before it stopped. Unfortunately, he didn’t see the men waiting for them in the shadows and couldn’t anticipate them grabbing him before he got too far.

“Where are you going, detective?” a voice all but purred in his ears as he was grabbed roughly from behind. “You’ve seemed to enjoy pretending to be a whore so much, we thought you might have fun getting some more hands-on experience.”

Terror seized him as he struggled against the hands dragging him backwards into the warehouse. He grunted in pain as he was roughly thrown against a wall, too disoriented to fend off the fists that rained down on his torso. He glared at Rolf when the blows finally stopped, refusing to show his fear as he was crowded the wall.

Jon couldn’t help but shudder, though, as Rolf’s hand slipped into his pants and pulled out the burner phone he had been using for this op. “You won’t be needing this,” the pimp said with a smirk. “I wonder how long it will take for them to figure out you’re missing? You live alone, you don’t have any friends or family from what I hear. How long do you think you’ll rot in the Hudson before anyone thinks to look for you?” 

“My partner—” Jon protested without thinking, cursing himself as soon as the words were out of of his mouth. If they knew about Rast, they would be on their guard.

The large blond standing behind Rolf laughed. “Who do you think told us you were a cop?”

Rolf grinned at Jon’s horror-filled face before throwing him over a nearby table. Jon scrambled to find leverage to buck the pimp off, knowing what came next and desperate to get away. His hand closed around something heavy on the table, and he gripped it without thinking as the man behind him ground his crotch into his thankfully still clothed ass. Panicked, he threw his head back as hands tugged at the waist of his pants, not even feeling the pain as it collided with his attacker’s nose.

He swung whatever was in his hand wildly, barely registering that it was a crowbar as the remaining men jumped back in surprise. Taking his chance and praying that the risk paid off, he shot straight through them and burst through the door, running as fast as he could to get away.

They were hot on his heels, he knew, but he kept running and didn’t look back. He jumped slightly as he turned the corner of the warehouse just as a gunshot went off, but kept moving. A moving target was harder to hit, after all.

A few more shots went off, but they mercifully missed him as he took turn after turn in an effort to shake them. He had managed to put a good deal of distance between them when he finally stumbled on a more populated street, nearly collapsing in relief as he spied a taxi and waved it down.

“Drive!” he cried as he fell into the backseat, sagging in relief as the cab pulled away, just in time for his pursuers to catch up with him. Thankfully, they didn’t shoot at the taxi, obviously not deeming Jon a worthy enough target to shoot at with so many witnesses around.

“Where we going?” the cabdriver asked, glancing at him in concern in the rearview mirror.

Jon stared at him, having no clue where to go. He couldn’t go home. Rolf and his pals knew where he lived. The station was out too. What if Rast was there? What if Rast wasn’t the only dirty cop in his unit? What if Rolf and the rest of the prostitution ring were watching the police stations?

“You don’t look so good, man,” the cabdriver told him.

For some crazy reason, that made Jon laugh hysterically. Of course he didn’t look good! He was nearly raped and murdered because his fucking partner had intentionally blown his cover.

Fuck, he thought, running a shaking hand through his hair. What was he supposed to do? Where was he supposed to go? He couldn’t get a hotel. He had only brought a couple of twenties with him, figuring a real prostitute wouldn’t care around any credit cards. And Rolf had been right. He didn’t have any family or friends he could turn to.

Well, that wasn’t quite true.

Taking a deep breath and trying to stead himself, he rattled off an address to the driver.

It had been a long time since he had been there, but he hoped that they would take pity on him for a night or so. Just until he could figure out what to do.

The driver gave him a shocked look as they pulled up to the house, obviously wondering why someone who looked like Jon was going to such a wealthy place. Jon didn’t blame him, not with his vulgarly tight and torn jeans and his red mesh top.

Jon gave him a twenty before nearly falling out of the cab, leaning against one of the stone wolves that stood on either side of the entrance to the Starks’ driveway. He stumbled to the buzzer near the gate, mind whirring as he considered just what he would do if he were turned away. He had a few acquaintances from working the beat that might help him, but he didn’t know where any of them lived and his cellphone was sitting on his coffee table in Queens.

Sighing, he pressed the buzzer on the intercom. He wished it were earlier in the day. At least then the gate would be open and he wouldn’t have to beg over an intercom.

“Yes?” a voice he easily recognized as Catelyn Stark.

He swallowed thickly, already expecting to be turned away. Robb’s mother never did like him. “Mrs. Stark? It’s Jon Snow,” he said, wondering if she even bothered to remember his name. “Can I come in?”

There was no answer, but the gate swung open a moment later.

 

#

 

“Uncle Benjen offered me a job today,” he announced as they were finishing dessert, watching his parents’ faces closely. His father didn’t look surprised, but from the hard set of his mother’s mouth, he knew she didn’t approve.

“You just recovered from your injuries, Robb,” Catelyn said. “You could do anything you want. Why go into security of all things? Why not find a safer job?”

Robb expected this. His mother had been extra protective of him ever since he had gotten injured in Afghanistan. “It’s been over a year since I was released from the hospital, and I finished physical therapy months ago,” he told her patiently. “And I’ve been in a good headspace for a while now. It’s time I got a job and moved out. And I enjoy protecting people.”

“Benjen’s not going to let Robb get hurt, Cat,” Ned added, giving Robb a supportive smile. “And I’m sure Robb’s role is going to be more supervisory than hands-on.”

He nodded in agreement, though secretly he hoped that his uncle knew him well enough to know that he would give him some hands-on duties as well. “Besides, when was the last time Uncle Benjen got hurt at work?”

Catelyn looked slightly mollified at that. As far as Robb remembered, Benjen had _never_ gotten hurt while working security. Not that she looked _happy_ , but Robb wasn’t sure she would ever be happy to hear he was moving out. Not after he had scared her so badly.

She sighed as she stood and began clearing the table. He rushed to get to his feet to help her, grabbing the glasses and following her to the kitchen. He was just placing them in the sink when the intercom on the opposite wall buzzed, signaling that someone was at the gate.

“Who could that be?” his mother asked absently as she crossed the room and pressed the button to speak. “Yes?”

There was a slight pause before a voice caused Robb’s heart to skip a beat came out of the tiny speaker. “Mrs. Stark? It’s Jon Snow. Can I come in?”

Robb was moving to the front door before Jon had even finished speaking, barely able to believe that this was happening. That Jon was _here_. 

He threw open the front door to see Jon walking up the driveway. He wanted nothing more than to run out and grab him in his arms and never let go. He froze, though, as Jon came closer and the light caused let him see him more clearly.

Something inside him twisted painfully as he took in the tattered, tight jeans and the mesh shirt. He had lived in New York most of his life. He recognized the type of clothes that were worn by men in certain professions in the rougher areas of the city.

“Robb,” Jon whispered, looking at him as if he had seen a ghost. He obviously hadn’t been expecting to see him here. It was only then that Robb noticed he was pale and trembling.

“Jon,” he said, stepping forward and hesitantly reaching out, not knowing if his touch would be welcome. As soon as he placed at hand on Jon’s shoulder, though, the other man crumpled, and Robb was barely able to wrap his arms around him to keep him from hitting the ground hard.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Jon mumbled over and over again, voice slurring as he shivered in his embrace as he gripped Robb’s shirt tightly. 

Robb had seen enough men suffering from shock to know the symptoms. “Let’s get you inside and get you warm,” he said, shifting so that he could slip Jon’s arm over his shoulders and heft him up. To his credit, Jon tried to support himself, but his legs were shaking too badly. 

A million scenarios about what could have happened to put Jon in this state ran through Robb’s head, each one worse than the last.

His parents looked on in concern as he brought Jon into the house. He didn’t pause, though, knowing Jon needed to be in a bed and rest right now more than any of them needed answers. He half-carried to Bran’s old room on the first floor, knowing that getting up the stairs with Jon wasn’t worth the effort it would take the other man.

Jon slumped forward when Robb led him to the bed, thankfully managing to just catch himself before slipping to the floor. Robb quickly pulled down the duvet before maneuvering Jon into bed, making sure to slip his shoes off. He wished he could get him in more comfortable clothing, but he wasn’t sure Jon would be comfortable with him helping him undress and the task was surely beyond the other man at this point.

“Robb,” Jon murmured as he was pulling the duvet, blinking up at him in blearily. Robb frowned worriedly, wondering if they should have taken Jon to the hospital or something. What if he had an injury that Robb couldn’t see?

“Are you hurt?” he asked seriously, grateful that Jon at least seemed to be able to understand him. That was a good sign, right? 

Jon gave a slow shake of his head as his eyes slipped shut. “Only beat me a little bit,” he muttered. “Shots didn’t hit me.”

Robb bit back a sob at that, horrified that Jon had been beaten and shot at. How had he gotten here? Not here as in his parents’ house, but here as in working as a prostitute and getting beaten up and getting shot at. 

A horrible thought hit him. Was this Robb’s fault? If he had fought harder for Jon senior year, treated him with kindness instead of hurt contempt, would it have kept Jon from running away? Jon could have had his pick of universities before they had broken up. Robb had been lobbying for NYU, as he also had an acceptance letter from there he was toying with taking over West Point. How had that fallen apart?

He tried to push the thought away. Surely it was arrogant to think that he was the cause of Jon’s current situation? After all, high school was eight years ago. He wasn’t so conceited as to think that he had enough of an impact on Jon’s life as to funnel him onto a path that led to him selling himself for money.

But dammit, he had _known_ Jon hadn’t had any support outside of Robb and his family. Senator Targaryen never gave a damn about his foster son. Rhaegar and Dany were in Europe. Who had Jon had? Whatever had happened, Robb was the reason he didn’t have anyone to turn to.

He should have at least tried to be friendly with Jon that last year of high school. Maybe he wouldn’t have driven Jon away so completely.

“Robb?” Jon’s drowsy voice broke him out of his self-blame. His dark eyes were barely open and his lips were upturned in a little smile. “Good dream,” he hummed in contentment, letting his eyelids close once more.

“Not a dream,” Robb assured him, unable to stop himself from leaning down and pressing a kiss to Jon’s forehead, not liking how clammy his skin felt. “I’m here, and I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Stay,” he begged quietly, hand groping blindly before managing to fist in the material of Robb’s shirt. “Don’t let them get me. Please.”

He was sure Jon would be a little embarrassed in the morning if he remembered how he was acting now, but there was no way Robb could resist his pleading. He kicked off his shoes and climbed onto the bed, staying on top of the duvet because he would _not_ do anything that might cause Jon to think he was trying to take advantage.

Jon mercifully fell into a deep sleep a few moments later, but Robb refused to let his eyes close, instead keeping them fixed on the rise and fall of the other man’s chest. Some time later, his father poked his head in the door, a worried expression on his face.

“How is he?” Ned asked in a low voice.

“Sleeping for now,” he answered in a whisper. “He’s hurt, but I don’t think too badly.”

His father nodded seriously. “Keep a close eye on him while he sleeps. I’ll have Dr. Luwin come take a look at him in the morning.”

Ned’s advice to keep a close watch on Jon was unnecessary. Robb couldn’t look away from the other man to save his life.

He had known that he was still in love with Jon. Had known that he had never really fallen _out_ of love with him. He had forgotten how powerful those feelings were, though, until he had seen Jon again tonight.

How he had handled Jon breaking up with him was one of the biggest regrets of his life. He knew that for sure because his therapist had dedicated an entire week of sessions to the regrets he had in life not long after his discharge from the hospital. Jon had featured heavily. Sure, his ex had hurt him by breaking up with him senior year, but Robb had _known_ that Jon had been hurting just as much as he was and had punished him anyway by being an asshole.

Robb didn’t know if Jon still loved him or if he even _could_ love Robb after how he had treated him, but he was determined that he would make sure that Jon was never without support again. Not if he could help it.

tbc…


	2. Chapter 2

Jon groaned as consciousness slowly came to him. He felt as if he had gotten hit by a train. What had happened? The last thing he remembered was getting into Rolf’s car…

His eyes flew open in a panic, fear coursing through him as he registered the unfamiliar ceiling and the strange bed beneath him. He squeezed his eyes shut as he realized there was someone on the bed with him. He took careful stock of his body. His entire upper body throbbed in pain, and it hurt to breathe, but thankfully, nothing below his belt seemed to hurt.

Relief flooded him. He hadn’t been raped. Not yet, at least, he thought, uneasily recalling that he wasn’t alone. But where was he?

He concentrated on remembering what had happened last night. He had gotten into the car. Rolf had driven him to an abandoned warehouse. He had tried to get away, but had been beaten instead.

Well, that explained why he was in pain.

But he _had_ gotten away. Barely, he remembered with a shudder, but he _had_. 

He didn’t go home. He _couldn’t_ go home, he recalled with a sinking feeling in his stomach. Rast had blown his cover, and the prostitution ring had had been investigating had known where he lived. And since he was pretty sure that this ring had some sort of mob affiliation, them knowing where he lived was bad. Very bad.

So where was he?

“Jon?” a voice from his past broke through his thoughts. His breath caught in his throat as he slowly turned his head to stare at his ex-boyfriend.

It all flooded back to him. He had gone to the Stark house. Of course he had. In his adrenaline-addled state, he had fled to his safe haven growing up. Humiliation welled within him as he remembered collapsing in Robb’s arms and clinging to him. Way to go, Snow.

“Robb,” he said, moving to sit up but hissing in pain. Gentle hands guided him back down to the bed.

“Careful,” Robb said, concern heavy in his voice. “The General called Dr. Luwin. He’ll be here soon to take a look at you.”

“He didn’t have to do that,” Jon mumbled, shame bubbling inside him. It was just like the Starks to take care of him even when they probably hated him. How could he have imposed himself on them like this? “I’m not hurt that bad.”

It wasn’t exactly true, but he had certainly had worse and had gotten through it without medical attention.

“Just let us be sure, then,” Robb replied mildly. “I don’t think we’d be able to forgive ourselves if you were hurt than we all thought and we did nothing.”

Jon averted his eyes, unable to take the sincerity in Robb’s gaze. Dammit, he had practically stomped on the other man’s heart in high school and had run away to college without bothering to even tell him goodbye. He didn’t deserve his concern now.

“I didn’t mean to put this on you,” he muttered in self-loathing. “I should have just gone to a hospital or something.”

He hadn’t been thinking straight, hadn’t even _considered_ his injuries. He was such an idiot. Interrupting the Starks’ lives was bad enough. Forcing them to take care of him as well was just too much.

“I’m glad you came!” Robb exclaimed, causing Jon to look at him in surprise. “Jon, someone obviously hurt you. And they _shot_ at you! If you’re in trouble, you know we will always help you. That _I_ will always help you.”

“Why?” he asked before he could stop himself. He winced and looked away. “Sorry. I don’t really have the right to ask you that.”

“Jon—”

Whatever Robb was going to say was interrupted by a knock at the door, followed by Dr. Luwin and Robb’s father walking in.

“Jon Snow,” the doctor greeted, giving him a kind smile as he approached. “It’s been a long time. Now, what seems to be the problem?”

“I’m just a bit sore,” he answered, downplaying his injuries a bit. “I just took a few punches.”

Dr. Luwin frowned before giving the two Starks a stern look. “Will you give me some privacy with my patient?”

“They can stay,” Jon said as he caught sight of Robb’s worried expression. It’s not like it mattered. It really was just a bit of bruising. “I don’t mind.”

Robb seemed relieved, and even the General seemed happy to be able to stay.

“Well, if they are going to stay, they’re going to be useful,” Dr. Luwin said. “Robb, help Jon sit up and get his shirt off so that we can see the damage.”

Jon flushed as he realized he was still wearing the scandalous outfit he had donned to go undercover. He didn’t look at Robb as he gently lifted his upper body up, biting his lip to keep from crying out at the movement. Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to suppress his whimper of pain when Robb tried to free his arm from a sleeve.

“Stop,” the doctor ordered. “This isn’t going to work. He’s in too much pain. Lie him back down.” He frowned at Jon. “Apparently, you’re more than just a bit sore. You may not have felt it last night because of your adrenalin, but your injuries are more severe than you seem to think. Now, how attached to you to this shirt?” he asked, plucking lightly at the red mesh material.

“It’s not even mine,” he mumbled, embarrassed that the doctor called him out on lying about the pain he was in. “You can cut it off if you need to.” If the department was worried about getting the clothes he had been given back, they could bill him for the shirt.

“Right, well, before I move you too much, I’m going to give you some Demerol to help with the pain. Have you had it before?” At Jon’s nod, he continued, “No adverse effects?” Jon shook his head. “Good.”

Jon barely flinched as the needle pierced his skin. Mercifully, the medicine didn’t take long to begin taking effect, his pain slowly easing as his head suddenly felt a bit floaty. He barely felt it, then, when Dr. Luwin began to gently cut his shirt away.

He _did_ feel it when the doctor began pressing on his chest, fingers carefully cataloging his ribs to feel for breaks. He was grateful for the Demerol because if it hurt this much with it, he’d hate to have felt it without pain medication.

“I would prefer to get an x-ray of your ribs,” Luwin muttered as he frowned in concentration. “It’s not always easy to feel a break.”

“’S’not a break,” Jon replied dreamily, letting his eyes slip shut as he tried to shut out the lingering pain, smiling a bit as comforting hand slid into his own. “Senator broke ribs a couple of times. Hurt a lot more than this.”

He frowned as the hand holding his suddenly tightened, and he opened his eyes to blink up in confusion at Robb’s horrified face. “What’s wrong?”

Robb shook his head, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them and forcing a smile. “Nothing. Just relax.”

Jon accepted that easily, letting his eyelids fall once more as Dr. Luwin continued his examination.

“Well, if there is a fracture, I can’t feel it,” he finally declared. “There is definitely some deep bruising though. Robb, sit him up so that I can wrap his chest for support.”

He opened his eyes as he was lifted off the bed, staring with wide eyes into Robb’s blue eyes just inches from his own. His ex gave him a small smile as he squeezed his arms comfortingly, supporting him as Dr. Luwin carefully peeled the remains of his shirt off and wrapped bandages around his chest.

“When was the last time you were tested?” the doctor asked quietly, giving him a meaningful look that Jon didn’t really understand. His mind sluggishly tried to process the question, sure that he should be able to decipher what he meant, but unable to figure it out.

“Tested for what?” he said, looking from the doctor to Robb in askance and not liking the tension that was suddenly in Robb.

“Perhaps this can wait until he’s more lucid, doctor,” Robb said in a soft but firm voice.

Dr. Luwin pursed his lips. “Your father hired me to treat Jon. I would be remiss if I did not ask about STI testing given his profession. You can lie him back down.”

Jon frowned as he fought the fuzz in his head to understand what the doctor was saying as Robb guided him back to the bed. “What do STIs have to do with being a cop?” he mumbled as he sunk into the mattress, his limbs feeling overly heavy all of a sudden.

There was a moment of quiet before Robb answered him. “Nothing, Jon. Why don’t you get some rest? We’ll talk more when you wake up.”

Jon felt Robb pull his hand away and get off the bed. He wanted to beg the other man to stay, but he wasn’t able to get the words out before sleep dragged him down.

 

#

 

Robb managed to last until he left the room before the tears began to fall. He steadied himself against the wall in the hallway, squeezing his eyes shut as the reality of what he had learned sank in, unable to even feel any relief to learn that Jon was a cop instead of a prostitute.

“Robb?” his father’s voice broke through his anguish as a strong hand clasped his shoulder. “It’s alright, son.”

“No, it’s _not_ alright,” he snapped, pushing away from the wall and whirling around. “He was abused. That _bastard_ hit Jon so hard when he was younger that he broke his ribs! That’s not alright! And I…”

His voice broke as he looked away in shame. He never knew. How could he not have known that Senator Targaryen was hurting Jon? 

“It’s not your fault,” Ned told him gently, pulling him into an embrace that Robb went into with resisting. “You weren’t the only one who didn’t see it.”

“I should have, though,” he argued thickly, leaning heavily against his father. “I love him so much and I _failed_ him. No wonder he broke up with me.”

He should have pushed harder senior year to get Jon to talk to him. He had _known_ that Jon’s reason for breaking up with him was weak, that he wasn’t breaking up with him for the sake of Robb’s future. His teenage self had just interpreted that to mean that Jon just didn’t want _him_ anymore. He was too stupid to realize that something was actually _wrong_ with Jon and he needed _help_.

Instead, Robb had given him anger.

Ned pulled away and grabbed him firmly by the shoulders. “You can be there for him _now_ ,” he said seriously. “He needs your support right now, and I have to believe that part of the reason he came here last night is because he knew you would be here for him.”

He shook his head and scoffed. “He didn’t even know I still lived here. He came here for your help.”

“He came here because he was running on instinct,” Ned insisted. “And instinct told him to seek you out. Now I know you’ll move heaven and earth to help Jon, but to do that, you’ve got to get over your guilt.”

Robb swallowed thickly. “I’ll try.”

“Good. Now let’s get some food in you. You’ll be no good to Jon if you pass out in hunger.”

 

#

 

Jon couldn’t say how long he slept, but by the time he woke, his bladder was uncomfortably full and his stomach was protesting being empty. Ignoring his pain, he pushed himself off the bed and stood. He took careful steps as he made his way to the ensuite bathroom, determined to not call out for help just to go to the stupid bathroom.

He had managed to escape and outrun gunshots last night. He wasn’t going to let crossing a little room defeat him.

It was a challenge that left him panting by the time he made it to the bathroom, but he managed to do his business and wash his hands without too much trouble. Just the thought, though, of crossing back to the bed left him slumped against the bathroom doorjamb in despair.

A knock came at the bedroom door as he was thinking about just how much the walk was going to hurt, and Robb poked his head in the door, eyes widening in alarm as he took in the empty bed before spying Jon.

“Jon!” he cried, at his side at a second and wrapping a gentle arm around his waist. “You shouldn’t be out of bed.”

“Needed the bathroom,” he mumbled as he raised an arm just high enough to grab Robb’s shoulder for support. He had to admit that the other man made getting back to bed a lot easier.

“Wait,” Robb said after he had helped Jon to sit on the bed, moving around him to pile the pillows up against the headboard. “There,” he declared, guiding Jon to lean back on the pillows with a satisfied smile. “This way, you can sit up to eat something. Dr. Luwin prescribed some pain pills for you, but said they should be taken with food.”

“Thank you,” Jon said softly, overwhelmed by how good Robb and his family were being to him.

Robb opened his mouth to respond before closing it and giving him a tight smile. “You don’t have to thank me,” he said. “I’ll always be here for you, Jon, even if I’ve failed in the past.”

He was taken aback at that. “You’ve never failed me. What are you talking about?”

“We’ll talk about it later,” he said with a shake of his head before standing. “I’ll get you some food.”

Jon frowned after him in confusion. Why would Robb think he had failed _him_? Thankfully, he didn’t have too long to dwell on it before Robb was back, carrying a tray with a bowl of soup and a bottle of Gatorade.

“Dr. Luwin said that you’ll need the electrolytes,” Robb explained as he placed the tray over Jon’s lap. “Mom made her special chicken noodle soup for you.”

Jon barely suppressed a wince at the mention of Catelyn Stark. He was sure she probably hated to have him back in her house when she thought she was rid of him for good. “You’ll have to thank her for me,” he said, picking up the spoon and clumsily bringing a spoonful to his mouth. Before he could attempt another bite, though, Robb was prying the spoon from his fingers and lifting the bowl from the tray. “I can feed myself,” Jon protested. “I’m not an invalid.”

“No, but it’s difficult for you to move your upper body and there’s no need for you to be in more pain than necessary,” Robb said, giving him a pleading look. “Besides, I feel useless watching you struggle when I can help.”

Jon rolled his eyes but allowed Robb to feed him the soup, feeling a bit silly. 

“What exactly happened last night?” Robb finally asked about halfway through the soup.

Jon was honestly surprised that none of them had asked him before. He was sure his arrival must have been shocking and upsetting. “I was undercover and my cover was blown,” he replied, figuring it was pretty obvious what he was undercover _as_. “Turns out my partner was dirty and handed me to them on a silver platter,” he continued bitterly. “I barely got away and when I did, I didn’t know where to go. I’m sure they know where I live, and I’m not sure who else in my unit is dirty.”

Robb frowned. “What are you going to do?”

He shrugged and regretted the movement as his ribs protested. “Don’t know,” he answered. “Go to IAB, I guess. After that, I… don’t know…”

As he thought about it, he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to put this behind him.How did you forget that your partner, the one person you were supposed to be able to trust, had given him over to be raped and murdered? Never mind the fact that he was going to have to uproot his entire life and move, he felt like his faith in his fellow officers had been shaken to the core.

“Well, you have time to figure it out,” Robb assured him. “And until you do, you can stay here.”

Jon shook his head at that. “I can’t. The men I was investigating have ties to the mob. I can’t put your family in danger like that.”

“Don’t worry about that,” he told him firmly. “Uncle Benjen’s already been over to ensure that our security system is working well and to post two of his best men outside. We’re all very safe here.”

“Why are you doing all of this?” the question slipped out before he could stop it. Once it was out, though, Jon decided to press on. “You have no reason to open your home to me, especially with how I stomped on your heart in high school and then ran away like a coward.”

“I deserved to have my heart stomped on for missing the fact that your foster father was hurting you,” Robb said contemptuously.

Jon froze in surprise before trying to shrink in on himself. “How did you find out?”

“You let it slip while you were drugged earlier,” he admitted, and Jon wanted to kick himself for being so stupid. “I’m sorry I didn’t protect you back then.”

“You _did_ ,” Jon insisted, still not meeting his eyes. “The Senator didn’t dare who me too badly when he knew I spent so much time around you and your family. He knew if any of you noticed, you’d get me away from him. And I was too afraid that I would be sent away from _you_ if that happened to tell you,” he confessed.

“But he _is_ the reason we broke up,” Robb said unhappily.

“Yeah, I was afraid of what he’d do if he found out we were dating,” Jon answered. “After your parents found out inadvertently, I was afraid…” he trailed off, not wanting to get into Viserys and Rhaella. “It was stupid.”

“No, it wasn’t,” he told him. Jon dared a peek up at him, relieved to see that he seemed more sad than angry. “You were probably right to be afraid, and I’m sorry we weren’t able to completely protect you from that. But we’re going to protect you now, Jon. You’re family.”

Jon blinked back tears at that. He had always thought of the Starks as the closest thing he had to a family. To be called family by Robb now was a bit overwhelming.

He wasn’t sure where this left him with Robb, but he wasn’t greedy enough to want more than what he was being offered. “I’ll stay then,” he said, unable to keep from answering the smile that spread over Robb’s face with one of his own.

He placed the down empty bowl back on the tray before placing a hand over Jon’s. “I’m glad. Now, take your pills, drink your Gatorade, and get some rest,” he said in mock sternness. “Doctor’s orders.”

“Yes, sir,” he chuckled. While he wanted to ask Robb to stay with him, at least until he fell asleep, he knew he had no right to ask for such a thing. Not with how understanding and forgiving Robb was being. He was already being given much more than he deserved.

tbc…


End file.
